The Origins of Button Doll
by Lynx-The-Proxy
Summary: This is the Origin to my Creepy Pasta OC, Button Doll. i know the story has a lot of fixing up needed. i did this without a BETA. i did my best for my first story. i really hope you enjoy it. i know its very rough, but bear with me.


The Origins Of Button Doll

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Slenderman,Eyeless Jack,Laughing Jack, Masky, or Hoodie….. I only own my character and this back story.

There was once a Toy Shop owned by an elderly couple. It was the week before Christmas, and the year was 1875. After spending weeks upon weeks, the old man had finally finished his most recent creation. A beautiful little Rag Doll with button eyes. He named her, Isabell. She had shiny brown hair pulled up into long, flowing pig tails. Her cloth skin was a pale peach with rosy cheeks. And her button eyes an enchanting green. She was dressed in a pink and crème dress with lace and frills and petticoats, the dress length ending at mid upper calf. A white high neck bell sleeved blouse underneath. Her feet were adorned with knee high polished black boots. The old man built a tiny whicker basket with a white cloth handkerchief over it for her to "carry" around. Isabell was perched in the display window by the elderly man's wife, in hopes that a loving family would take her home to a child who would cherish her.

One day, while the wife was out doing the shopping for the evening meal, the old man sat in his toyshop brain storming new ideas on what would bring much joy to the children of London. When suddenly, a man, armed with a large knife, snuck in and attempted to rob the old man. The old man refused to cooperate…costing his life. The robber turned murderer fled with all of the money received from paying customers from that day. The old man bled out and died on the floor. His last emotions of sorrow, pain, anguish….and most of all, Rage, swirling within his fading soul. After his soul departed from his body, the atmosphere of the entire shop changed to one of tragedy. The air itself, charged with fear, and a malice most foul….

An hour later, the wife returned home to find her husband dead. She cried and screamed for help, running out into the busy street, gaining the attention of several passersby, including that of a police officer. An investigation was held. The murderer was never caught.

Still Isabell remained …..

After weeks of grieving, the old widow decided that she needed to move. Far , far away from the sorrowful memories of the toyshop. So she had the windows boarded up, and the doors locked forever.

Still Isabell remained…alone. With nothing but the over powering negative energy swirling around her….

Soon…the gloom of the emptiness coupled with the dark history trapped within those four walls, manifested into a malevolent entity, with only one body, it could possibly inhabit. Isabell.

Sinking into the doll, the entity could do nothing but wait… the memories of all the love and devotion put into creating her, to the blood soaked down fall of her creator, swirling and manifesting.

134 years have passed. The doors still locked, the windows still boarded…. The spirit that had brought Isabell into a conscious being…still billowing within her….

Late one night, an arsonist set fire to the old toyshop, that had stood there for so many years….the literal flames of malicious intent bringing new energy and new power to isabell. Gifting her, the ability to alter her appearance. Starting with her height, She now stood at 5'2" instead of her 1' even. The nasty spirit that resided within her being, warped her darling innocent appearance, to that of nightmares. Her once glossy brown hair had darkened to black on one half of her head, fading to a gloomy blue on the other side. Her peach "skin", paling to the stark white that would remind one of a death pallor. One of her green buttons melted, leaving behind a charred dripping eye socket, while the other, tarnished to a bright evil red. Her formerly pale lips, now as black as pitch. Her pink and crème dress now a dark burgundy and beige with black lace and frills. The stark white blouse underneath, now dull black. Her boots remained unchanged.

The fire burned down the entire building. Setting Isabell, loose.

Filled with an unquenchable rage and thirst for blood, Isabell hunted down the arsonist. Quietly manifesting into his kitchen, she grabbed a large meat cleaver with a wooden handle, that was hanging on a rack drilled into the wall. She noiselessly walked into the living room, where the man had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the television, his loud snores reverberating throughout the room. She raised the cleaver, and swiftly brought it down upon his arm. Effectively hacking off his hand. The man awoke with a pained shriek. He stared in shock and horror at the stump where his limb used to be. Then his eyes raised to his attacker and he froze in sheer terror. Isabell cocked her head to the side, studying her prey. The man made to run from the building, but before he could make it to the door, the cleaver embedded itself into his back. The man howled in agony as a twisted smile etched itself onto Isabells face. The man fell to the floor, barely conscious from blood loss. Isabell tore her cleaver from his back with a sickening squelching "SHUCK", ripping a barely audible whimper from her victim. Being struck with an idea, Isabell pulled a chair from the kitchen table into the center of the living room. She then proceeded to drag the almost dead man over to the chair. She heaved him up into it, and tied some twine she had found on the table around the man and the back of the chair, keeping him from slumping forward. Then she skipped into the mans bedroom, searching for a needle and thread. Finding what she was looking for she went into his closet, and ripped two large buttons off of a wool pea coat hanging within, humming to herself happily. She walked back out to the man, a bounce in her step. Isabell gave him an inimical grin, threading the needle, she proceeded to sew the mans mouth shut, his muffled screams of torment music to her ears. Next she sewed down his eyelids so that he couldn't disrupt her work. Lastly she sewed the buttons on over his closed eyelids. Stepping back and admiring her work, a genuine smile graced her features and a giggle erupted out of her. The man was dead.

Sirens were heard very close by, and Isabell disappeared back into the shadows.

The police found the dead arsonist in one of the most horrific crime scenes to grace London since Jack the Ripper. A message carved into his bare chest and stomach.

"he is such a beautiful doll, don't you agree?"

Over the next few months, over 20 victims were found with the same doll like stitching, effectively catching the attention of Slenderman. He had seen the blurred out devastation and macabre artistry on the national news. He decides to approach Isabell, offering her the option of becoming a proxy of his. After a lot of thinking, she reluctantly agrees and is given the name, Button Doll.

Months pass with her moving into Slender Mansion, completing tasks and errands for her master, and becoming close with her fellow Creepy Pasta. During her first month, she acquired a whicker basket with a cloth cover, not dissimilar to the one that the old man had created for her those many years ago. She brings it with her on kills, so that she may collect and bring home treats for her family. A few fresh Kidneys for Eyeless Jack, Candy for Laughing Jack, and sometimes cheese cake slices for Masky and Hoodie. Her trusty Meat Cleaver nestled among the commandeered goodies..


End file.
